Page 126 of Tharn's Hunt
Jah-kee follows his gaze, her jaw tightening as her resolve solidifies. "Then let’s figure it out.”
Jah-kee continues along the wall, her expression shifting from confusion to fascination as she takes in more of the story. The first carvings are clear. They show the Daughters of Ain working in large structures, gathering particles of light, shaping them with gestures that seem almost like dance. Then the Daughters approach the stone columns, placing their creations inside before sealing them with a touch.
Further along, the carvings depict Drakav emerging fully formed from the columns, the Daughters welcoming them with outstretched arms.
"This is incredible," Jah-kee murmurs. "So the Daughters of Ain... created your entire species?"
"Yes," Kol projects.
I watch her closely as she studies a panel showing Drakav kneeling before the Daughters, offering them water, meat, shelter. The reverence in the carved faces is unmistakable.
"You worshipped them," she projects.
"They were our makers," Kol projects simply.
She moves to the next section, where the story shifts. Here, the carvings are less clear, the meaning harder to grasp. She points to a panel that shows several Drakav clustered around a single Daughter of Ain, all reaching for her, their stone faces a confusing mix of devotion and possession.
"Look at this," Jah-kee murmurs to Jus-teen, who has stepped closer. "Doesn't this look like..."
"A harem?" Jus-teen suggests, her eyebrows rising as she takes in the carving.
"Harem?" I project, the unfamiliar word strange in the mindspace. "What does this mean?"
Neither female answers immediately, their attention caught by the next panels.
“What happened here?” Jah-kee’s brow knits.
The wall is a mess. A huge section of the story is simply gone, the stone either intentionally smashed into rubble or worn away by some ancient cataclysm, leaving a gaping hole in the history of our people. Fragments of images remain—a broken spear here, a fallen Drakav there—but there is no context, no story. Only the ghost of a great violence.
"What happened?"Jah-kee’s mental projection is filled with horror. "The story... it's just... gone."
Kol steps forward. "Some stories are too painful to carve," he projects, his thought resonating with an ancient sorrow. "And some are lost to the dust forever."
Jah-kee turns to him, waiting. But Kol merely gestures to the far wall, where the carvings resume, clear and pristine once more.
The final image is stark. The few remaining Daughters stand together, their arms raised toward a blazing Ain carved at the apex of the chamber. Around them, swirling particles of light rise upward.
"They went back to Ain," Kol projects, his mental voice heavy with finality. "They left the dust."
Jah-kee stares at the image. "But... why? Because of whatever happened here?" She gestures to the ruined section of the wall.
"We do not know the whole truth," Kol admits. "We know only that they were gone. And we were left alone."
Jus-teen’s gaze flicks over the carvings. “That’s why you thought we were these mythic Daughters of Ain.You thought they returned.”
Neither I nor Rok nor Kol reply. Because she is right.
"I don't know if we're your Daughters of Ain," she projects. "I'm pretty sure we're just humans who, through some kind of luck, crashed on your planet.”
Jah-kee nods.“It doesn't matter what we believe right now. What matters is keeping the women alive while they adapt—or bond, or whatever needs to happen."
Her practical approach fills me with pride.
"I want to bring the other women here," she continues. "They should see this, understand the history. It might help them make their own choices about bonding, if that's what it comes to."
Kol stiffens slightly. "The Hall of Knowing is sacred. Few are permittedto enter."
"If you truly believe we're your Daughters returned," Jah-kee projects, her voice firm despite her respectful tone, "then this is our history too. We have a right to know it."
